


rebelcaptain week 2017

by cassandor



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Compliant, F/M, Tumblr Prompt, Undercover Cassian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:01:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11093622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandor/pseuds/cassandor
Summary: All my fics for @therebelcaptainnetwork's rebelcap week that aren't already part of a series.





	1. what's in a name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day one: family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> modern AU! some mentions of gang violence.

> _This is my family. I found it, all on my own. It’s little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good._

* * *

Sometimes, when Jyn teeters on the edge of sleep, she could remember her birth parents. Flashes of memories from a child’s height: sights from behind her mother’s legs, views from her father’s shoulders. 

She knew that they were good people. She could tell from the way her father smiled at her before tossing her into the air. The way he always tucked her in at night even when he thought she was asleep. Her mother pointing at the animals in the zoo, slowly pronouncing their names one by one, smiling when Jyn repeated them correctly. The look in her eyes when she gave Jyn her last birthday gift - the crystal necklace she now has gripped between her fingers. 

She knew that they were taken far too soon. Gang violence. Jyn had suppressed the memory of her mother collapsing to the ground but on sleepless nights like these she clearly sees the growing pool of blood on the sidewalk. The way her father’s face twisted when he realized he couldn’t talk his way out of this, not this time. The way she muffled a whimper, slinking into an alleyway as goons dragged her father away, turning her world upside down. 

Looking up at the ceiling, she wonders how her life would be different. _What if_  her parents were alive? _What if_  Saw hadn’t raised her? 

Saw. _Uncle_  Saw, when her parents were alive. _He means well_ , she remembers her mother saying, _but I don’t agree with how he does it._  

Some things can’t be erased, like the tattoos that snaked around Saw’s forearms, or the memory of him teaching her to keep her thumb outside her fists. The way he stripped her of her last name - _for your own safety,_ he said. The dingy walls and broken lights of their small apartment, the cracks in the ceiling as numerous as their unpaid bills. 

The way he had abandoned her right before she was of age. 

Jyn closes her eyes. _Two years in foster care._ Shuffled between homes. First, complaints about her anger. Then, complains about her apathy. To school, to other people, to herself. 

 _She’s too stubborn_ , they’d say, and move her to the next home.

She asked them to call her by a different nickname every time. It helped scrub herself of her identity. You couldn’t dwell in the past if you never had cause to remember it. 

She was wrong, but she tried anyways. She put as much physical distance between herself and the Empire’s territory as much as she could. Pick pocketed, did odd jobs, kept a relatively low profile. Changing names, changing places. Jyn thought if she kept moving, her past couldn’t catch up with her.

But it did.

For the better. 

Jyn rolls over in bed, burrowing her face into her pillow, remembering the look on Bodhi’s face when they bumped into each other, coffee spilling down the front of her clothes and pooling at her feet. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Bodhi exclaimed, looking down at her soiled clothing. He was lankier back then, clean shaven, but hair still pulled up in a neat ponytail, impeccably dressed. But even then, Jyn noticed he didn’t reek of prosperity. 

When he looked up at her, though, it was her turn to be surprised. 

“Erso,” he breathed, and her heart skipped a beat. “Erso. Galen Erso. You know that name?” 

She remembers choking out the word, “yes.” 

* * *

Jyn remembers feeling that her life was about to be flipped right-side-up. Bodhi had offered her a new set of clothes while he washed her soiled shirt. She was wary of entering a stranger’s home, but the earnest look in his eyes helped ease her worries.

That, and what he told her about her father. 

“You have his eyes,” Bodhi had said. “The resemblance was shocking, I had to ask. Sorry if-” 

Jyn shook her head. “It’s fine. What do you know about him?”

Bodhi nodded. “I-I was in a… rough patch. School was easy for me, so I had a lot of free time. So I got in the wrong group of friends. We were poor, I couldn’t afford post secondary anyways. My so-called friends… the… older kids took advantage of that. And my car racing skills.”

Jyn nodded. It was a familiar story. 

“It got bad really fast. My marks dropped, my attendance dropped, I dropped out of high school. It was… it was rough. Until I met Galen - your dad. He… he’s with the Empire, you know.”

Jyn froze. The Empire. The gang that killed her mother. He was _with_  them? 

Bodhi had clearly understood her expression. “Not like you think. He didn’t have a choice. He-he was working against them. From the inside. He took young recruits - like me - and turned their lives around. He got my life back on track. Even found me guardians to live with - Chirrut and Baze, they’re such great parents, I hope you can meet them,” he said with a smile. “But… back to the point. Everything I have right now, I have to thank _him_ for… I can’t do anything for him, not where he is now. So if I can help _you_  in any way… let me know.” He looked at her, eyes shining with honesty. 

Something fluttered in Jyn’s heart as she accepted his offer. Looking back, she thinks it’s pride.

* * *

She had thought that would be the end of it, that finally life had given her something good: a brother in Bodhi and parents in Chirrut and Baze. 

She rolls back on to her back, fidgeting under the covers, her mind still racing with memories. 

Cassian had entered her life like a whirlwind. She didn’t realize he was a blessing in disguise. 

* * *

It had been one year after Jyn ran into Bodhi. She had initially taken the Imwe-Malbus name for her safety, but over time she truly felt welcome in their little family as they supported her through her second attempt at getting an education. 

To say she didn’t have bad days would be a lie. Sometimes she just wanted to give up, go back, maybe end it all.

It was on one of those days when Captain Andor had knocked on their door. Jyn opened it and immediately flinched at his uniform.  

“Jyn Erso?” he asked.

She looked at him warily, taking in his sharp features, judging his fighting technique by his falsely relaxed stance. He looked friendly. 

Which was dangerous. 

She nodded anyways. 

It took her all of ten seconds to realize Andor wasn’t your average police officer. He was something above that, an agent of some sort. She didn’t care. 

They took her and Bodhi in for questioning about her father, who she honestly knew nothing about, then shuffled her back to the decrepit neighborhood of her childhood as a bait for Saw. The mission soured quickly. 

* * *

Somewhere along the way, maybe when they were hiding in a dingy stairwell, a question bubbled out of her.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked Cassian, eyes dropping to his name tag. 

His eyebrows furrowed. “It’s my duty?” 

“No,” she shook her head. “There’s something else driving you. You wouldn’t be this involved if you were just doing it for the paycheck.” 

Cassian studied her face carefully, judging the words he was about to say. 

“Hope,” he said simply. 

“Hope?” The word felt unfamiliar in her mouth. 

He nodded slowly. “Hope. For a better future. It’s all I can give them, it’s all I have left.” 

Jyn remembers puzzling over his words for the rest of the day, as a firefight blossomed between Saw’s Partisans and the Imperials, Jyn and Cassian caught in the crossfire. She remembers the look on his face when he realized he she had swiped one of his extra guns, but didn’t protest when he realized she wasn’t using it on him. Cassian hadn’t asked how she knew how to use a gun, only gave her the small nod he always gave her back then.

Now, in the dead of night, a dim glow at the window from the streetlight outside casting shadows on the wall, the full meaning of Cassian’s words hits her. 

Hope. 

Once upon a time, she hoped her parents would come back for her.

Once upon a time, she had hoped to have a family. 

That hope had been weeded out by the Partisans, and was utterly crushed when Saw abandoned her. 

But now… 

Jyn tosses and turns, mind buzzing with discovery. 

Cassian had helped her rediscover hope. She remembers it pulsing through her veins as the explosive’s countdown ticked, marking the end of the Empire - and, as she had believed, marking the end of her life. 

 _At least no more children will be orphaned, no more kids dragged into violence,_  she thought, scrambling into an elevator with Cassian.   _No more Jyns, no more Cassians._  They would be the last of those who hid from the shadows. 

But then Bodhi had whizzed by, car screeching to a halt, shouting for them to get in. As they sped away from the explosion, Cassian bleeding out on her lap, Jyn remembers realizing she could be a _part_  of that better future.

So she began to dream. 

* * *

“God, Jyn, are you still awake?” 

Cassian’s sleepy voice startles Jyn out of her thoughts. 

“You’re awake?”

“Yeah, with you tossing and turning like that, who wouldn’t?” 

Jyn rolls over in bed, turning to look Cassian in the eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Why? Were you having nightmares?” Cassian sits up, concerned. 

Jyn smiles and shakes her head. “No… no I was just… remembering. Being thankful.” She sits up as well, propping pillows behind her back. “Finding answers.” 

Cassian tucks a rogue strand of hair behind her ear, fingers gently brushing against her face. “So did you find them all?”

Jyn shuffles closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “Mostly. I had one more, though, but I think you can answer this one.”

He laughs. “I’ll try. What is it?” 

“What’s in a name?” 

He waits a second before asking, “What do you mean?” 

“Like…” Jyn struggles to find the right words. “When I was Jyn Erso, I was Galen and Lyra’s daughter. At first, it didn’t matter. Then it made me a target… and then it was something I wanted to forget.”

Cassian hums in agreement. “Yeah, you changed your name everywhere you went.” 

“To distance myself. I thought it helped but… I just lost myself instead. Which is ironic, because the only person I cared about was me.” 

“Don’t say _that_ ,” he murmurs. “I was there when you saved that girl from the shootout. That was before….” he gestures aimlessly. “This.” 

“That was basic human nature, Cass.”

Cassian clicks his tongue. “You’ll be surprised at how many people in better situations than you were in lack that empathy.”

“Fine. I wasn’t a total heartless machine. But I tried.”

He nods. “Okay. But what does this have to do with names?” 

“Well,” she continues, “then I met Bodhi. I took his adoptive last name. I gained a caring brother and two amazing fathers. And life was really beginning to turn around.”

“But…”

“I still had my dark days. I still do, now, we both know that,” Cassian nods, “but… but even then something felt missing. As amazing it was to gain new relationships…” her voice trails off. 

“You hadn’t reclaimed your identity.” 

Jyn looks at him, the glow in the air tracing his features. “Yeah.” she says softy. “That makes sense.” 

Cassian chuckles a little. “And then I came in and forced it on you. Like cough syrup.” 

“I was angry. I really was. I thought I had forgotten that part of my life.” 

“But really, you had just suppressed it.” Cassian looks thoughtful. “Like I did.” 

Jyn takes his hand in hers, tracing circles with her thumb. Cassian had the look he got when he was remembering all those he had failed to save. 

“But we learned to accept things. Together.”

“Because of each other,” Cassian corrects her.

“And _now_ ,” Jyn stretches and lets her arms fall dramatically to the side, “I’m Jyn Erso once again. Flaws and all.” 

Cassian smiles. “You know, your father would be proud of you.” 

Jyn cocks her head. “For the rehabilitation project?” After Operation Scarif, Jyn, Cassian, and Bodhi had pooled their resources together to sponsor the lives of the children now free of Imperial influence. 

“I mean, yes, but also…. for accepting who you are.” 

She nods slowly. “I guess _that’s_  what’s in a name, huh.” 

They fall silent after that. Jyn dozes off, thinking Cassian had fallen asleep. 

Instead, Cassian watched their room turn gold, deep in thought as the sun rose.

* * *

Jyn wakes up to the sun warming her face, feeling oddly refreshed despite a lack of sleep. She stretches lazily and almost whacks Cassian in the face.

“Oops! G’morning,” she slurs slightly, ruffling his hair. “You’re awake!”

“It’s barely morning,” Cassian replies with a gentle smile that rivals the sun’s soothing rays. “But good morning to you too.” He pulls her into his arms, and Jyn has a realization.

“You didn’t sleep after we talked,” Jyn says, shuffling around to face him. “Why?” 

She can see Cassian working his jaw, and his grip on her increases ever so slightly. 

“Jyn,” Cassian begins softly. Her eyes widen at the way his voice quavers. “About that name thing.” 

“Y…yeah?” 

“Um,” he clears his throat. “I know you’ve only just gotten used to… a normal life. The life you deserve. And um, we’re both only now learning what we want…” He winces at the way he’s fumbling with the words. Jyn stifles a laugh. 

Cassian sighs and starts over. “I… I know you’re only just beginning to accept yourself as Jyn Erso, but… would… would you like to take my last name as yours?” 

His question takes a few moments to work through the fog of drowsiness in Jyn’s brain, but when they do she shoots up into a sitting position.

“Are you _proposing_  to me, Cass?” Her voice half squeaks in surprise.

“Um… I guess so?” Cassian looks as bewildered as she is, getting up to face her. “I mean. Um. Yes. I am. But like, not super formally, I mean please say no if you don’t want this, and you don’t have to answer me now either, I know it’s a big commitment and a chan-” 

Jyn interrupts him. “Yes.” 

He blinks. “Did you-” 

“Yes. I’ll take your last name as mine. Or if you’re really worried about me adjusting, you can take mine as yours. Or we can hyphenate. Or something. I just - yes. Let’s do this.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. _Yes,”_ Jyn exclaims, pulling Cassian close.

She nuzzled up against his neck, and Cassian pulls her tight in a hug. 

“We’ll be each other’s **family** now.” 


	2. forget your woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day two: comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title and intro quote from the meadow song from the hunger games. this turned into a ramble about space!cultures.

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true.  
_ _Here is the place where I love you._

* * *

Cassian had met countless beings over the course of his life. Picking up on the nuances of different cultures came easily to him - like how different sides of the same planet laid out their cutlery differently, and how eye contact was threatening to one species and mandatory in another - it had saved him from many a situation. It was a survival skill, really.  **  
**

But he suspected it was also born of a yearning for his own people. 

He wasn’t sure what others remembered of their childhood, but his was so short he clenched tightly to the fragments he had left.

Cassian could feel Fest’s permanent chill in his bones, still remembers the way the cold nips at his fingers and toes. 

Fest’s culture and traditions revolved around the idea of warmth. It was found in the spices of their foods, and the thick lining of their jackets. It explained the Festian reverence for fire, food, and family. _A full stomach and a full heart keep winter’s chill in the dark._

Cassian had spotty memories of heavy blankets and dances around campfires, singing praises of the ice and snow. He remembers the feeling of his mother’s hand gripping his as they whirled around the hearth like snowflakes in the wind until his eyes were droopy with sleep.

You could take him from Fest, but you couldn’t take Fest from him. 

It’s there in how he pulls his jacket around him even on the warmest of planets, a weight in all the right places, soft synth-fur grazing his skin. Jyn teases him for it, at first. He grumbles something about being cold-blooded, and of course a spy would have amassed a large variety of jackets, right? 

It’s there when he dumps three different spices onto his dinner. Bodhi raises an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting combination. We don’t mix those on Jedha.” Cassian recognizes the wistful look in his eye. 

“How do you do it, then?” 

* * *

Hoth is familiar and alien at the same time. Frostbite was one ill-timed patrol away. But there were no crackling fireplaces to come back to. Just his chilly quarters. 

Jyn hated it. It was obvious in the way her face scrunched up as soon as they had set foot on the base. She stopped teasing him about his jackets and many quilts almost immediately. 

“I don’t actually _need_  them,” he offers the next day, after Jyn complains about the lack of warm material in her quarters. They’re more just there for….” Cassian searches for a word that doesn’t come. 

“Comfort?” Jyn asks, without any hint of mockery.

“Yeah. You need the blankets more than I do, though.” 

Jyn shakes her head and lowers her voice. “But what are _you_ going to do?”

“I’m not cold. One blanket is more than enough for me.”

“No, I mean…. for comfort?” 

Cassian balks at the question. He had lost true comfort a long time ago. Losing some extra blankets he snatched on a mission once wasn’t a big deal. He shrugs. 

Jyn turns away and he thinks the matter is closed. 

It isn’t. 

He finds that out when Jyn barges into his room that night.

“So you _do_  want the blankets,” Cassian says, moving to fold up the quilts. 

“No. I want you.” 

Cassian drops the half-folded quilts onto the bed. “What?!”

Jyn huffs, feigning annoyance to hide her nerves. “Your bed, I mean. Those can stay here, I can join you for warmth, and you don’t have to give up the blankets.” 

“Uh…” 

She had made up her mind, and trying to argue with Jyn was like arguing with a wampa, with less claws. Cassian wasn’t going to win. 

It turned out to be a good thing, because even though Jyn’s body heat was nothing compared to a Festian fireplace, the warmth that thrummed through his veins was one and the same. 

He drifts to sleep faster than ever before. He was finally back home. 


	3. trust goes both ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day three: undercover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s what might’ve happened if Cassian was undercover on Wobani.

This was Cassian’s least favourite type of mission. 

Firstly, there were the uniforms. Thankfully, Wobani was as important to the Empire as fleas were to a Wookie, so nobody cared if his jailer’s cap was at regulation angles. (Honestly, he’d stand out _more_  if it was.) They still made him feel like he was choking. 

Secondly, there were the criminals. Cassian had dealt with all kinds of beings, from no-good smugglers to merciless bounty hunters to brutal pirates. But the inmates at Wobani were just… _there_. Unimportant. 

Except for one. 

Jyn Erso, currently known as Liana Hallik.

He goes over her file for the millionth time, every word seared in his mind. A petty criminal who exclusively targeted Imperials. Nothing major, not even a pebble in the Emperor’s shoe. That was, until she decided to target Corulag’s dictator. 

If Cassian was in a better mood, he might’ve smiled. 

Her failed plan was big enough for the dictator to throw a hissy fit and turn her into an example - big enough to draw the Rebellion’s attention. Enough for Erso’s file to land on his desk.

It turned out, she was important enough for Draven to send Cassian to enlist her to their cause. Neither them thought she’d warm up to a jailer immediately, even if he told her he was with the Rebellion, but they could try. It’d be easier to sneak her out. 

Nothing he couldn’t handle. 

* * *

Nobody gives Cassian a second glance as he makes his way to Jyn’s cell, instead of his quarters, after his last patrol of the night. Convenient, but he has to repress a shudder of disgust. In the seconds it takes for the creaky door to slide open, Cassian assumes a friendlier stance while preparing himself for an attack - from an escaping prisoner, or a girl ready to defend herself. Either way, Jyn was a former soldier. 

Nothing happens. Jyn’s eyes are droopy with sleep - her shift had just ended - but she shoots up into a sitting position as soon as she hears the door slide open, eyes bright and alert. 

“What do you want?” Her voice is casual, but wary. _As it should_. 

“Just to talk,” Cassian says, and the cell door slides shut behind him. “About a favor.” 

Jyn raises her eyebrow and tilts her head at him. “I’m not the type you’re looking for.” Cassian is surprised she hasn’t attempted to knock him out yet. Staying in uniform had been a good idea. 

He shakes his head. “Not like that.”

“Then?” 

“There’s an old friend I need to talk to, and your file says you might be able to help me.” 

“Really?” 

“I can…. get you out of here, in return.” 

“How do I know you’re not baiting me?” 

“Do you really think any important Imperial business will happen in a place like this?” he gestures. “Anything important enough for me to trick you, then kill you afterwards? Besides, prisoners escape all the time.” He waits a heartbeat. “Don’t let my uniform make you miss a great deal.” 

Jyn’s still looking at him warily, but he can tell he’s provoked some interest. She chews on her lip. “What do you want, then?” 

“I’ll tell you the next time we meet.” He presses his hand to the keypad and the door slides open again. 

He turns and leaves, not looking back but knowing Jyn was watching him, mulling over options as he walks away. 

* * *

She should be sleeping. 

She should be sleeping but she’s thinking of the jailer. 

Clearly, the jailer had known when her cellmate would be on their work shift before he had barged into her cell. So he was indeed employed here. 

And he hadn’t taken advantage of her. On other, more reputable or more important prisons, that wouldn’t be an issue. But on Wobani the staff were as foul as the prisoners. 

It could all just be a ruse, but she could respect him for that. For now. 

But was he telling the truth? 

It was obvious he was hiding many, many things from her but the only thing that matters to her right now was this deal. 

She has no friends. She has no luck. She has no weapons. Her choices were these: accept her death here, or _maybe_  die trying to escape.

When she put it that way, the answer was obvious. 

* * *

Jyn keeps up her wary facade when the jailer approaches her when she’s walking in line to processing. He gives her an imperceptible nod.

 _What’s he planning_? The thought has barely crossed her mind when he slams right into her. 

“Watch it,” he snaps at her before storming off. Someone snickers in line behind her. 

When she’s back in her cell she unfurls her hand. _Ah._  The jailer had passed her a note on flimsi when he bumped into her. 

Two words in neatly written Basic. A time, and a place. 

* * *

So Jyn isn’t surprised when she catches the jailer’s reflection when she looks up into the mirror of the communal bathrooms. She finishes washing her hands before turning to look at him.

“You know, you should really tell me what you want.”

“Isn’t the promise of freedom good enough?” 

“I’d like to know what I’m getting into. I don’t even know your name.” Which was a lie. She’d overhead a superior calling him earlier that day. 

“I don’t know yours either.”

“That’s a lie.” Of course he knew. How else would he find her cell? She wipes her hands on her prison uniform. 

“Liana Hallik isn’t your real name.” 

She stills. _What_ did _he know?_

“Look,” he says, “Once you agree, I can tell you when to expect an extraction. You’ll learn everything else after that.” 

“Why not now?”

The jailer raises an eyebrow at her. “You know why.”

Jyn sighs. It was worth a try. 

“Fine. I accept, only if you agree to treat me like an equal. None of this need-to-know business.” She surprises herself with how quickly she says yes. Something about the jailer made her want to let down her guard. 

Which, in her experience, was a bad thing. 

When the jailer hesitates, she continues. “Trust goes both ways, you know.” 

The jailer nods and turns to leave. 

“My name’s Cassian,” he says, back facing her. “Cassian Andor.”   
The bathroom door slams shut behind him and Jyn catches herself staring at the empty space he’s left behind.

That wasn’t the name she thought was his. 

So what was the truth? 

* * *

Cassian kicks himself. _Why did I tell her my real name?_  

Why was he so desperate to get her to trust him? She had agreed quickly, anyways. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or worried. 

He’s surprised with how much difficulty he’s having. Every time he tries to stick a label on her, she does something unexpected.

This mission was going to be an interesting one.

He knew it.

* * *

Jyn is shoved onto the transport waiting to take her to _who_  knows where for her next backbreaking shift. As soon as she spots Cassian among the supervisors, though, she realizes that this won’t be anything like her previous shifts.

She briefly looks up at him before settling in her seat. He gives her the same nod from the other day before looking away. 

She understands him immediately.

It’s time. 


	4. anything’s possible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day four: nerve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> four times they were nervous, and one time they weren’t.

Jyn’s stomach jumps up and down as she makes her way to Mon Mothma’s private office. The thought of the regal and imposing former Senator chastising her for running off with her troops is… nerve-wracking.

Cassian would probably laugh if he found out. _“You can take down a squad of stormtroopers and spit in an Imperial Director’s face, but you’re afraid of a reprimand from a Rebel Leader?”_

On second thought, maybe he wouldn’t. The same worry had been written all over his face when he had been called to a meeting with Draven.

 _He’s probably not used to reprimands_ , Jyn thinks. _Always following orders. The perfect rebel soldier._

But Cassian wasn’t ignorant, not like what Jyn had first thought. He’d been fully aware of what he was getting into. He just thought that the end goal – freedom – was greater than all else. Not to justify what he’d done, Jyn soon learned, but to keep the nightmares at bay.

Now, if only she could carry his sense of conviction into this meeting.

* * *

* * *

<CASSIAN.> Kay chirps. <You’re acting jumpier than usual. Your pulse is higher than normal. Shall I run a diagnostic on you?>

Cassian was still getting used to looking _down_ in Kay’s direction, after his personality chip had been transferred to an old Artoo unit. Thank the force he understood binary.

“I’m fine,” Cassian hisses. “Just nervous.” He bites his tongue. Not the best phrasing. He leans out into the corridor, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jyn.

<Nervous?> Kay beeps wildly, <Since when were you nervous on missions?>. There’s a long pause filled with whirls and clicks. <Ah. I see. Since Lieutenant Erso has joined you on them.>

“Of _course_ not,” he says a little too roughly. “Besides, this is only our first official mission together.”

Kay’s motors whirr as he mulls – processes – the statement. <So that makes my observation all the more accurate, Cassian. You’re worrying about her.> Kay’s fans make a noise that vaguely sounded like a huff. <I told you not to bring her along. Your emotions for her are distracting you.>

“Emotions? _What_ emotions?” he jumps defensively, almost knocking over a wastebin.

Kay lets out a string of high pitched beeps. <You’re the one who needs to tell ME, Cassian. What do I know about human feelings? If you were a droid I could find the faulty line of code in your programming. But…>

Cassian leans back to glare at the red-and-silver astromech.

What _did_ he know about his _own_ feelings?

* * *

* * *

Jyn eyes the new recruits, her face a mask of indifference and scrutiny, not a single twitch exposing the nervous energy pumping through her veins.  

Most the recruits were taller and bigger than she was. The were _newbies_ after all, and that was why they had been sent to her.

She could handle them, no problem. If they wanted a fighter, she’d best them all.  Soldier, leader, superior, mastermind, whatever they needed, she could become.

Unless it was a friend, a confidante. _That_ would take some time. But she could pull it off.  

Somehow, Cassian barges into her train of thought.

What was she to him?

* * *

* * *

“Just _tell_ her,” Bodhi hisses.

“How?” Cassian’s voice is strained.

“Just say whatever comes to mind!”

“What if I screw it up?”

Bodhi snorts. “The worst thing that can happen is that she turns you down. And trust me, embarrassment is not a big deal. There’s nothing a little Corellian whisky can’t fix.”

“Is that what you used when you asked Luke the first time? Besides, how would you find some on _Hoth?”_

“I know a guy who does.” Bodhi lightly shoves Cassian on the shoulder. “But hey! Don’t be so pessimistic. You’ll be _fine_. You two are more alike than any other people I’ve ever met. If you’re hiding this from her, so is she.”

“You think?”

“Would I be telling you to confess your feelings to kriffing  _Jyn_ of all people if I wasn’t?”  

Bodhi had a point.

“Now gooooo!” Bodhi shoves Cassian into the hallway, right into Jyn’s path. She stiffens in surprise.

“Uh, hey Jyn,” Cassian begins, seeing Bodhi goading him on in the fringes of his vision, “Can we talk?” _Kriffing stars, his hands were shaking_.

Jyn looks around at the hallway bustling with rebels. “Yeah?”

“Somewhere private, maybe?”

* * *

* * *

When Jyn pulls him closer, she blames the adrenaline coursing through her body - a twitch of her muscles, nothing more. 

She can see every detail of his face now. He’s blinking in slow motion; eyes darting here, there, everywhere but her. The pounding in her chest worsens and she pressing against the wall, as if she could transfer her energy to it.  

They had been this close before. Not willingly - usually stuffed into a cramped hiding spot, sometimes circling each other in an animated conversation. 

But nothing like this. 

It’s affecting Cassian, too. His hands are trembling when he presses a hand to her cheek, a pointed question in his eyes. 

Desperate for relief, desperate for an answer.

And suddenly everything stills, because it’s _just_ Cassian after all. She had nothing to withhold from him. No dark secrets hung in the shrinking gap between them for they knew each other better than anyone else. She gives in and they kiss. Her heartbeat slows with his. A sigh of relief escapes her, a feeling of calm shooting through her veins. 

There was no reason to worry.


	5. hope is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day six: hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> star wars, especially rogue one, is a story of hope. I finally summon the strength to write the elevator cut scene.

_Out of the jar poured Disease and Poverty. Out came Misery, out came Death, out came Sadness…. All that remained in the jar was Hope._

* * *

She doesn’t have a name for it yet, but she sees the look in her mother’s eyes as she puts the kyber necklace over her neck. The same look she saw when her father told her to run. 

She recognizes it in her eyes when she catches her reflection on the side of one of Saw’s ships. _He’ll come back for her, right?_  

The next time she sees herself, she has to wipe the grime off the side of the ship. The look is gone. 

* * *

“Hope?” The word is a touch of a smile on her lips. 

“Yeah. Rebellions are built on hope,” he replies, and when he glances down at her she sees something she’d long forgotten glimmer in the depth of his eyes. 

* * *

She’s actively looking for it now. It’s mixed with the anguish in Saw’s voice as he yells at her to leave. It’s the last thing that flickers in her father’s eyes before the light goes out forever.

She’s looking, she’s seeing, but she can’t find it. 

* * *

When Cassian approaches her, gruff looking rebels trailing behind him, she stiffens. _This is it_. 

But he’s here to help. They’re here to help, earnest looks on their faces. A chance for redemption. 

Jyn’s heart thunders in her chest, pulsing with something that gives her the energy to make a plan. Her fingers tremble in excitement before she grabs the handrail on the shuttle. 

They could do this. 

* * *

She hopes that the blast door holds up. 

She hopes that she can make the climb.

She hopes that Cassian is still alive, his name wrangled from her lips. He had given her everything, and now it was her turn to believe. 

She hopes the shield is down. 

She doesn’t hope for an escape. 

* * *

“Do you think anyone’s listening?” 

She hears it in her voice, feels it in her bones. “Someone’s out there.”  She really does believe it.

* * *

Her heart sinks as gravity pulls them to the ground. _They weren’t going to make it._

Anger flits through her mind as she watches a thousand possibilities flash in Cassian’s eyes. _What we could’ve had_. But that too disappears.

She’s getting better at this whole acceptance thing. He’s rubbing off on her. 

She barely knew him. But she felt like he knew her better than anyone else ever had. More than _she_  ever had. 

She suspected he felt the same way. 

They were mirror images, really. She figured if she’d been taken in by the rebellion and Cassian had grown up with Saw, they would still end up in this elevator. Roles reversed. Rebel and Captain. Captain and Rebel. 

The pulsing light highlights his face again, and she can tell he’s reached the same conclusion. _What we could’ve had_. 

They didn’t want to die, but they couldn’t help but accept their fate. Jyn can tell they’ve both come to the accept the bitter reality. Might as well make the most of what time they had left. 

She’s up on her tiptoes before Cassian can waste his breath on the question.

She’s not sure _why_ they’re doing this, her lips pressing against his, his lips pressing against hers. She just knows it feels _right_. Maybe they’re making a promise. _If there was another life, they’d find each other._ A promise to remember what they had lost here, and make sure they never lose it ever again. 

_So this is what hope tastes like. Bittersweet._

They pull away, not because Cassian’s having difficulty breathing (he is), not because they’d had enough (she hadn’t - it really wasn’t fair. _life_ wasn’t fair. maybe death would be fairer.) but because the promise had been made. It was final. 

She’s suddenly aware of her arms around his neck, of his arms on her waist, and decides not to waste their energy moving. 

Instead, she never takes her eyes off him. It’s the only thing she can do now.

That, and hope. 


	6. in a kinder universe…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day seven: future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from the last lines of the novelization … a what if? my personal favourite from the entire week.

In a kinder universe, Krennic wouldn’t have found them on Lah’mu. 

She would’ve had a loving and supportive family. She’d be fierce, survival instinct coursing through her veins, but she would’ve still had hope. A belief in a better future.

In another universe, the Rebellion came knocking at their door much earlier.

“We need you to help us figure out what they’re building,” they say. “And how to stop it.” 

Jyn would’ve grown up running around the rebels’ feet. They became another constant in her life: Mama, Papa, the grizzly but friendly pilots, the stately and beautiful Mon Mothma, the little princess, beings of all shapes and sizes … and Cassian. Thrown together in the way that kids always are: the youngest people in a room of adults. They would have grown up side by side; the Rebellion’s best team. 

In a kinder universe, they would’ve walked away from Scarif. Maybe hand in hand, maybe on a stretcher. A rebel ship, perhaps, or caught by Imperials.

It might’ve taken them years to concede, or seconds after regaining consciousness. The confession might have been slowly drawn out, all shyness and fumbling words; or maybe rushed and passionate, firm and sure. Maybe Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze and Kay and everyone else were there to cheer them on; maybe not. 

They might’ve had children, if the Empire fell in their lifetime. Adopted a war orphan. Given them a childhood she never had; wide, innocent eyes that never saw death and hands that never touched a blaster.  _Rebellions are built on hope_ , he tells her and she grins in agreement. It was the story of their lives. 

The image squeezes the air out of her lungs.

But she also knows this: 

In a harsher universe, their paths never crossed. They died alone. She might’ve died in Wobani. He could’ve died in the cell next door. 

Or worse, they were on opposite sides of the equation. 

“Find the child.” Krennic dragged her and her father to the Emperor’s feet. Indoctrinated her, doused her fire, molded her into one of the Emperor’s sterilized blades. A killing machine, cruel and calculating. Maybe in that universe, her life would’ve ended at Cassian’s hands. Staring down the barrel of his blaster. Another weight on his shoulders. Another soul liberated from the Empire. 

Or his life may have ended in her hands. She might’ve not even batted an eye as she wiped his blood off her knuckles. Just ridding the galaxy of rebel scum, she thinks. Long live the Emperor, forever may he reign. _Fear brings stability, and stability brings peace._ It’s what she tells herself when the nightmares refuse to let her go. 

She shudders. 

So many different stories, so many different futures. Jyn pulls Cassian closer, the sky a purifying white.

She could be happy with this one. 


End file.
